


Calling The Shots

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, M/M, Tied-Up Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-05 01:04:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17315147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dean likes Cas like this.Bound, helpless, and relying on him.Cas kind of likes it too.





	Calling The Shots

Dean likes tying Cas up.

His angel is fucking hot as is, whether he’s wearing his holy tax accountant get up, or lying naked and wrecked in Dean’s bed.

But Dean is a sexual creature and he isn’t afraid to admit it, and Cas has a natural inquisitiveness that means when Dean has something he wants to try, Cas usually says yes to it.

Not always, and it may end up being something they don’t try again, but Dean reckons Cas also likes it when he’s restrained and helpless.

With him, anyway, and it does something deep to him that Cas feels safe and protected and secure enough around Dean to let himself be left so vulnerable.

That after everything, Cas trusts him that much.

It’s one of the reasons they don’t use the cuffs. They’re a little too heavy - with magic and memories - for what goes on behind Dean’s bedroom door (and sometimes elsewhere in the bunker but only when they’re sure Sam is going to be gone for a while).

Regular handcuffs, maybe, but then Cas could just snap through those which makes putting them on him a little pointless.

Dean, though, is resourceful; and when it’s something he’s made with his own hands that leaves Cas unable to do more than struggle and writhe and beg, it ramps everything up.

Like right now. He didn’t make the tie wrapped carefully around Cas’s wrists (he did buy it though), but he did write the sharpie sigils marked along its length.

What it boils down to is that Cas isn’t getting his hands free until Dean unties him, and Dean has no plans to do that just yet.

Cas is fine where he is.

Which is sitting in Dean’s lap, one knee to either side of Dean’s legs, with those hands bound behind him.

It just increases how vulnerable Cas is. He’s dependent on Dean to keep him balanced and upright, and so Dean has his hands on Cas’s hips to make sure the angel doesn’t take a tumble.

Especially when Dean starts to move, small upward thrusts, deepening them with a roll of his hips, each one a little harsher than the last.

Cas whines as Dean finally hits the spot he’s looking for; his head rolls back, a bead of sweat trickling down the length of this throat.

“Dean,” he moans, and holy shit. That voice could make Dean come right there and then.

But he holds out; he’s not coming until Cas does, until he has Cas moaning loud enough that somebody’s going to come up from the town to complain about the noise.

Leaning forward enough to tease his tongue across Cas’s skin, to lick up that solitary drop of perspiration just as it rolled next to Cas’s nipple, Dean let his tongue tease the pebbled nub which just made Cas moan all the more.

Yeah, he was loving it, and Dean abandoned all effort at restraint. His legs were soon aching as he fucked up into Cas, merciless, rocking Cas as he worked him hard.

Cas could barely form words; he tugged fruitlessly at the tie around his wrists, but Dean just reached around and took hold of Cas’s hands, preventing him from struggling any further, pressing them to the small of Cas’s back. 

He used his other hand to jerk Cas off, fast and sloppy and then Cas was screaming his name and streaking them both as he came. 

He slumped forward against Dean, tucking his head into the crease of Dean’s neck and shoulder and rested there, sweat slick and panting. 

Dean hugged Cas to him, holding him safe and steady, but kept pushing up into him, chasing his own release.

He found it when Cas, wrecked and trembling, still found the strength to bear down around him and whispered his name, hoarse and broken, in his ear. “Dean.”

When he was done, Dean slumped a little, jarring the angel and drawing a grumpy noise from him.

He chuckled, holding Cas tight in one arm while he reached behind to undo the tie. 

Cas shivered as his Grace slipped free along with his wrists, but he showed no sign of moving or wanting to. He seemed content to stay in Dean’s hold, as the hunter carefully rubbed the stiffness from the angel’s arms, back, thighs.

He might not need to, but it felt good to do it anyway.

But after a while he was starting to feel the effects of a six foot man in his lap, now that he was coming down from the adrenaline rush and he nudged Cas gently.

“Unless you want to heal me, angel, you gotta move.”

Cas sighed, but carefully and with a grace Dean knew he himself wouldn’t be capable of, eased off of Dean’s lap and stood up.

He reached out a hand, and Dean took it gratefully, letting Cas pull him gently on to his feet.

Dean took a look at them both, and chuckled at the state of them. “Oh, yeah, shower.”

Cas reached for him. “I could…”

Dean caught his hand, brought it to his mouth, kissed Cas’s knuckles. “You could walk me to the shower. Then get in with me.”

Cas grinned at him. “I think I like that idea, Dean.”

Yeah, Dean did as well.


End file.
